


Another Chance

by HamilDuck



Category: Hamilton - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M, Feels, Gen, Hamilton - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Musical, Protective Eliza
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamilDuck/pseuds/HamilDuck
Summary: What if the duel hadn't killed Hamilton? What would life be like for Alexander and his family or even the entire country?





	1. After the Bullet

It hit him like a cannon.

Alexander fell like a tree upon the cold dewy ground, his gun firing haphazardly into the trees above Burr. He groaned in agony, he could feel the wetness of his blood coating his torso, the coldness of the liquid a stark contrast to the flaming pain that radiated throughout him. Grunting softly, he tried to move his right arm to push himself up off the earth floor in an attempt to sit up, to gauge the severity of his wound and the aftermath of the duel.

But it didn't respond. His arm didn't respond.

"Hamilton!" Nathaniel hurried over and kneeled next to his friend, moving his coat flap to swallow heavily at the flowering red spot on his ribcage. "Oh shit."

"Nate." Alex coughed, blood staining his lips. "I can't /move/, I can't bloody move."

"Doctor!!" Nate yelled over to the awaiting surgeon who ran over, past a seemingly stunned Burr. "A little assistance?!"

The elderly man kneeled beside the pair and together with Nate, he lifted Alexander up enough to look at his back despite the man's hissed protests, the act sending more waves of pain through him.

"No exit wound. It's still in there somewhere. Most likely his spine if he's experiencing paralysis." He gently laid Alexander back down, wrapping his wound tightly before motioning towards the shore. "Get the boat ready! We bring him to the Baryard home!"

His body felt like it was on fire, and he couldn't stop coughing up blood. How exactly did he pictured this going again? Dying instantly and heroically? Like a martyr? This felt like he was an old horse who had been put down, but the shot had been poorly dealt. What was it Washington had told him? Dying is easy, living is harder? It made sense now, each breath he drew seemed harder then the last, each beat of his heart seemingly sending more and more of his life blood out his body and onto the ground. Everything seemed to be pushing Alexander towards death, whereas nothing seemed to be drawing him away, making life harder and harder to grip onto. 

"Alexander wake up, wake up man. Come on, don't leave us yet." Alex blinked his eyes open at the sound of Nate's voice, unaware he had slipped unconscious for awhile. He looked around noticing they had gotten him into the boat and had begun to row him back to New York. The shock of what had happened finally seemed to hit Alexander at that moment and he began to hyperventilate, his body shaking violently.

"Shit, shit." Nate cursed, wrapping a blanket around his friend. "Alex! Alex, look at me! Hey, hey, think about Eliza, think about her." He suggested in an attempt to calm down the other man.

Eliza. His Eliza. The thought of his beloved did calm him down, but it also triggered a downpour of emotional pain.

When would she receive the letter he wrote for her in the event this happened? Had she already found it? Had one of their children? He hadn't felt guilt about his actions until now, of course he hadn't, he never thought about the consequences until they actually happened. Now it hit him like a train. They were all still reeling from the loss of Philip and now this? They didn't deserve this much heartbreak. He didn't deserve their love or kindness. Not after this. However for some reason they all still loved him, they still trusted him after everything. And that made him smile through the pain. Gently, he closed his eyes as they moved across the water, the lapping of the waves soothing him back into an unconscious state. He woke up again to the sound of a piercing wail, his heart thudding pitifully as he recognized the source.

Eliza.

She entered the room he had been placed in moments later, the sound of her sobs following her over as she collapsed beside him, her hand on his and the other cupping his cheek.

"My love." Her broken voice reached his ears and he struggled to rouse his face. "Alex-Alexander look at me..."

His eyes cracked open and with a pained voice he focused his gaze on her. "El-Eliza?"

"Yes, I'm here baby, I'm here." She sniffed, her tears never stopping.

His heart broke at the state his wife was in. He felt horrible, guilty at doing this to her. She had already lost so much, the list just kept growing. She didn't deserve anymore heartbreak and yet here they were yet again.

"I'm sorry..." Was all he was able to get out before the pain got the best of him. Yet the two words were laced with paragraphs of what he really wished to say, and he knew Eliza would understand what he meant, she always did.

"I k-know." She hiccuped. "S-save your strength, love." A soft sniff, her thumb stroking his cheek as the doctor reentered the room. "The doctor is going to help you okay? You're not leaving me, not now, not yet." Those who claimed Alexander was the most stubborn person in the world clearly did not know his wife, and the thought caused his lips to twitch into a weak smile.

"Here." The doctor gently handed Eliza a full bowl and a cloth. "It's brandy and laudanum. Helps the pain." 

She nodded, setting the cloth in her lap before taking the bowl into her shaking hand. With her free hand she cupped the back of Alexander's head to raise him up enough to place the bowl to his lips, the pained man eagerly gulping the brown liquid down and moaning when he felt it's warmth spread through him, the medication numbing the pain just enough to be bearable. He whined when Eliza took the bowl away, his mouth open like a baby bird's, whimpering for more relief. 

"In an hour baby." She bit her lip, setting the bowl aside to take up the cloth to dab at the dribble of brandy upon his chin. "Just rest and stay alive for me, please..."

His eyes fluttered shut as he nodded weakly, Eliza laying his head back upon the pillow. "L-love you..." He choked out.

"I love you too." She could feel the tears forming again, but waited till Alex had fallen asleep a few minutes later to shed them. 

"Lord, help him! Pl-please...please just save him. I need my husband, the children need their father!" She sobbed out. "He will be a better servant to You I promise! I will ensure it is so!" She hiccuped through her tears and looked back down at the paling man, so much of his life blood already spilled. "Save him..."


	2. Shattered Hearts and Healing Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day dawns and Alexander proves to still be alive. But how will his children take to seeing him near death's door?

A full day passes.

Eliza never strayed from her husband's side, terrified that if she should...he would not be there upon her return.

The children arrived by the next morning, led by their beloved Auntie into the now crowded tiny house. Angelica pushed her way through the throng of concerned people, her hand clutching the eldest Hamilton child while carrying the youngest upon her hip. The other five shuffled behind them, whimpering and sniffling in confusion at the entire situation. 

"What happened?"

"Where Mommy?"

"She's with your Papa." Angelica soothed the littlest ones, following the directions she had been given into the back of the home. Eliza was there to greet them, her children immediately flocking to her skirts and clinging close. Angelica stepped around them to kiss her sister's cheek. "How is he?"

"Alive." Eliza sighed, her entire being and voice weighed down by worry. "In and out of consciousness since he got here."

Philip wiggled from his aunt's arms and followed his siblings into the small room as the adult women talked behind them. The entire room smelt odd to the tiniest Hamilton, and it felt odd too. 

"Oh!" Angie reached out to tug William back from a dark, rust smelling puddle upon the wooden floor. "This way..." She nudged him around it until all seven children were at bedside of the seemingly dying man, standing silently in grief. Philip pouted at their actions and climbed up onto the bed, patting at his father with a firm goal to wake him up.

"Careful Lip." Angie chided, the twenty year old shaking softly. "Papa is in alot of pain right now."

The two year old frowned, crawling to Alexander's side and curling up against him, making sure it wasn't the side that was a horrible icky color and smelled bad. "I nos hurt!" He told his sister. "I helps!"

"Course Lip."

"Oh Philip! Careful!" Eliza hurried over, Angelica quick behind her.

"Nos! Nos I stay 'ere!" The boy whined, squirming away from his mother when she reached for him. "I helps! I helps!" 

Eliza sighed, too tired to fight him. "Alright my darling, alright." She sat back in the chair beside the small bed and reached out to brush some sweaty hair from her husband's forehead. 

"It gonna be okay...right momma?" William asked, the seven year old climbing into her lap and frowning.  
The matriarch sighed, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close.

"Only God knows, my son. Only He knows how this will end." 

The child glanced back at his unmoving father, biting back tears. The other children began to pick parts of the room to settle down in, the girls pulling out their sewing and the boys their reading. None truly paid attention to their small activities however, to preoccupied with their fears and concerns for their father to paid any mind to something as trivial as sewing or reading. Angelica, the elder, had gone out to find the doctor to simply talk with him, leaving Eliza alone with her children and a scarily silent Alexander.

"H-he he's gonna die isn't he Mama? He's gonna go away!"

Eliza turned to glance at her twelve year old, John, the boy breaking down against his eighteen year old sibling, Alex, who looked close to tears himself.

"Let me tell you a story." Eliza simply said, turning her chair to face all of the young, sad faces looking at her, including the one in her lap and on the bed. "Back when he was a little older then you, John, there was a terrible, terrible storm. A hurricane it's called. It destroyed everything and killed whoever stepped in its path. Few people survived that storm, in fact, most of the island's population was wiped out." She glanced towards her husband. "But your father wasn't one of the fallen. He survived and fought his way out of that destruction into the man he is today. If a hurricane failed to kill him...I highly doubt a single bullet will."

The room fell silent save for a smug grunt, John wiping his teary eyes as they all watched Alexander open one eye and weakly peer at them.

"Million...things..."

Eliza smiled and leaned over to kiss his clammy cheek.

"You have so much more to do, my love. Much more then a simple million."


	3. The Soul Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander has a strange dream which feels more real then dream. Why is he having this dream? Or was it not a dream at all?

"Alexander."

He groaned, tilting his head away from the voice.

"Mon fils. Look at me."

Alex opened his eyes, expecting to see the same old room he had been stuck in for near two days now, instead laying eyes on something entirely different.

He was...home?

He lifted one hand to see and shockingly feel the sand falling from his digits back down to earth. He could feel the warm Caribbean sun kissing his skin, caressing it as it had back in his youth. The sound of the thundering ocean filled his ears, causing him to look forward and admire the crystal blue waters before him. He was truly home...back in Nevis.

"A-am I...?" He began to speak. 

"Non, you are not dead." Spoke the warm voice again, a gentle laugh accompanying the words.

Alex finally turned towards the voice he had heard, feeling his heart, which already hurt, ache a thousand times more.

"Mama?"

The older woman chuckled, the smile Alex so fondly remembered gracing her lips. She was just as she was before she died, vibrant, happy...healthy. One could easily see the resemblance Alex bore to his mother, the same dark hair and eyes, olive skin and short frame. But Rachel harbored a gentler aura to her then her son did, her softly wrinkled face the very essence of kindness. Alex teared up instantly at the long lost sight of her face, flinging himself into her arms just as if he were a small boy again.

"Mama..." He whimpered, burying his face into her breast. She even smelled as she had back then, her skin soaked with the saltiness of the ocean and the coconut oils she would apply to herself to aid cracked skin.

"I don't understand..."

The elder smiled softly as she held her youngest son, rubbing his back with her tender yet coarse fingers.

"Am I dead?" Concern laced his voice, not at the fact he may be dead, but at the fact he hadn't said goodbye to his Eliza.

"No mon amour, no you are not. Your soul is simply resting, recovering." His mother replied, her voice warm like the sun's rays. "In a moment you will return, whether or not to stay or return to me is up to the Father."

"B-but then where am I?" He sat up, still within her arms. "What is this place?"

"Your memories." She smiled, brushing some hair from his face. "Your soul brought you back to a time where you felt most comforted, a time where you also felt great pain."

"When you died..." He whispered, glancing behind them to see the broken old stone building he had grown up in as a child. "But why?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You and your thirst for knowledge.

"Mama."

"Sometimes there are no answers my child, sometimes you just need to accept what's happening around you."

"But I don't like not knowing...you know I don't like that." He sighed.

"Neither did I, mon fils, but I found life was much easier when I accepted the fact some answers are past our grip. Because sometimes those answers are not meant to be known because they simply do not exist. Things do simply just happen."

Alex frowned and turned away to watch the waves for a moment, trying to calm his racing brain and its confusing thoughts.

"Can I know anything? Anything at all?"

His mother stayed quiet for a moment, thinking he presumed, while he sat feeling rather comforted in her arms.

"You may know this. I have a very special friend with me here, on the other side." She smiled softly, looking down at him. "My grandson."

Philip...

"Such a sweet boy, smart too." She gently brushed away a tear that had escaped his eye. "Know he is happy, mon amour, know that he is safe and loved. And he will remain so for all of time."

Alex blinked away the rest of his tears before hugging his mother tightly, crying softly into her shoulder as she kept stroking his hair.

"You are doing so wonderfully, Alexander, so, so wonderfully as a parent. Just know I am so proud of you and no matter what you do...I will always love you. You will always be my son, my little Allie." Alex blushed softly at the use of her childhood nickname for him.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt a new wave of tears hit him, flowing freely from his already tear stained eyes. He missed her so much...maybe that's why his soul brought him here. Eliza could indeed give him comfort, she had been for so long, but she couldn't give him the comfort he truly needed, the comfort of a mother.

When he opened his eyes his mother and Nevis were gone. He sighed, turning his head to the side to see it was dawn, Eliza fast asleep against her chair. The kids were still scattered about the room, little Philip in his mother's lap. Alex had to smile softly at the sight, that even after everything, they still were there for him. Just like his mother. 

That was the answer.

Family.

Family is what brought him to his mother again, family was what was keeping him alive. Family.

He smiled weakly, his heart warming at the realization.

"This is enough." He whispered, closing his eyes once more to slip off into a peaceful, warm sleep.


	4. It Must Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander's only chance at returning home lies in the removal of the very thing that landed him out of it. But will he survive? And if so, at what cost?
> 
> Possible triggers: Mentioning of knives and implied physical suffering.

It had been four days.

The doctor was absolutely floored by the fact Alexander had not succumbed to his wound yet, Eliza on the other hand, was not surprised. Her husband was a stubborn man, she told the doctor, he wouldn't go so easily into death's hands. She was filled with pride at how her beloved was seemingly defying death once more, although deep down, she still feared the future and the struggles to come.

Alexander may still be alive, but he was hurting. The wound was infected and not showing any signs of easing up, a fever raging in the man's clammy head. He still had no feeling in his legs nor hips and his right arm was still rather slow to his brain's commands. But his color was improving, he had some pink to his cheeks, although if that was the fever or not, Eliza did not know. She did know his spirits were improving, a smile often on the man's lips as one of his children regaled him in their day's events or as Eliza sang a song to pass the time as she sewed. 

By the fourth day they decided to move Alexander back to the family's home, the Grange, in hopes that maybe the familiar environment would aid in his recovery or in the worst case, making his passing easier. But they couldn't do so until they did one other thing: remove the bullet itself.

The tiny piece of metal was still lodged in Alexander's body, causing most of his pain and infection. Moving him with it still in place would only do more damage to his body. It had to be removed. But doing so put Alex at risk of bleeding out, dying then and there when he seemingly had a chance at living again. The very idea made Eliza want to throw up, her worry clear on her face as she sat beside her husband's best friend, Gouverneur Morris, who was there for emotional support.

"I would give him a little something...to make this easier." Morris whispered to Eliza, concern in his eyes as they watched the doctor prepare for the removal. "This won't be pleasant for him."

The other nodded weakly and went to fetch the brandy bottle before returning and bringing the rim of the bottle to her husband's lips.

"Drink baby." She urged, lifting his head enough to aid him in drinking the warm fluid. "That's it..." She could tell Alex himself was terrified for the moment to come by the way he guzzled and sucked down the brandy in such a fervent fashion. He whined when she took the bottle away, setting it down beside the bed. She bit back her tears and leaned down to press their lips together, determined to stay strong for him.

"You'll stay?" He asked softly when they pulled away, dark eyes wide with fear.

"Course." She nodded, cupping his cheek and pressing another kiss to his forehead. "I couldn't leave your side even if I wanted too."

They waited for a few minute for the brandy to really soak into Alexander's system, the man's eyes drooping softly once the warmth really settled into his bones.

"You may want to back up, Eliza." Morris spoke softly, hands moving to help the woman to stand. "This isn't something a woman of your nature should have to see."

"No!" She pulled away from him, remaining in her seat. "I promised him I wouldn't leave him! I don't break promises!"

The other frowned but nodded, understanding and as always, admiring her intense dedication to her husband. By then the doctor was ready to begin, Morris helping him gently roll over his friend so Alexander lay on his belly, a soft cloth under the entry wound to prevent irritation. When Eliza looked confused at the rearranging, the doctor explained.

"Normally I would go through the original entry point but upon first evaluation I noted the bullet's position and deemed it won't be fruitless to attempt to extract it from the entry wound." He nodded, having Morris remove Alex's under shirt. 

"Then where is the bullet?" Eliza asked, biting her lip as the doctor picked up a small knife.

"Right here." He reached down and drew a circle with his finger around a very subtle bump near Alex's spine. "His body has been slowly forcing the bullet to the surface since it was lodged there, but I believe his spine is preventing it from fully being released."

Eliza felt her stomach churned slightly. She nodded at the doctor's words before reaching out to hold her husband's hand, squeezing it gently to let him know she was still there with him. 

"I love you." She whispered as the first motion to extract the bullet was made.

She desperately wished there was more they could do for her husband at that moment to help the immense pain he was feeling, the poor man's face twisting and contorting with anguish as the doctor cut into his back. Eliza had rarely seen her husband cry, perhaps only when he had been begging for forgiveness upon his marital mistake, but this was different, this was physical suffering. He was screaming and sobbing under the doctor's hands, his fingers clenching around his wife's as she desperately attempted to soothe him.

By the time the doctor finally extracted the damnable item, Alexander was passed out from the pain, the bed utterly soaked red from the efforts. He quickly cleaned up the new wound and wrapped it before he and Morris lifted their friend just enough so a maid could remove the stained sheets and replace them with fresh ones.

"Will he be okay...?" Eliza whispered when all was said and done, Alexander tucked under fresh blankets and breathing shallowly.

"We can only hope." The doctor sighed, standing beside the woman, a hand on her shoulder. "But Mrs. Hamilton..."

She quickly looked up, the tone of his voice scaring her.

"If he does make it and recovers from this...."

"Yes?!"

The man sighed, glancing at an equally concerned Morris before returning his gaze to Eliza.

"I'm afraid, Mrs. Hamilton, that with the original damage of the bullet and now this....I fear your husband may never..." He trailed off, glancing away.

"Spit it out man!"  
Morris glared. "Just tell her!"

"Tell me what?!"

The doctor simply close his eyes before finally speaking once more.

"I fear your husband will never walk again."


	5. An Unwelcomed Caller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All seems well in the Grange with Alexander's recovery, but one caller can easily turn thar upside down...and bring out a side of Eliza few have seen.

For the first time Eliza felt as if she could relax.

Alexander was home, granted he was still rather comatose most of the days but he was home and more importantly...alive.

The children were extremely helpful in aiding his recovery, the elder helping their father eat and drink while the younger ones would simply sit beside him and talk, tell him about their day or read stories their tutor assigned them. Eliza knew they were a huge reason for how well her husband was doing, the reason he was still alive and relatively unfazed over the fact he was paralyzed from the waist down. 

"My mouth isn't paralyzed, that's all I really need in my profession." He told Eliza one morning with a grin. "I can still give Jefferson a run for his money in a wheelchair." Eliza had to laugh at that, her heart warming at the playful cockiness her husband still harbored. He was still the man she had fallen in love with and married, and that made this drastic change in his, in their, lives a little bit easier. In the same conversation he mentioned that while he was paralyzed from the waist down, he did still have masterful control of his hands and the smug look Eliza received was enough to cause her to blush violently and reminded her of rather impressive memories.

Three days after that conversation (which occurred the day they moved Alexander home) Eliza was relaxing in the parlor with her sewing, taking a well deserved moment to herself. Alexander was sleeping off his latest dose of brandy and medications while their eldest, Angelica, took her turn in keeping an eye on him. The other children were scattered about the Grange, either running through the halls or outside in the warm evening air attempting to catch lighting bugs (or as Philip called them, "blink blink bugs"). Eliza smiled at the sounds of their laughter and the various other sounds filling the manor up, servants moving to and fro preparing for the next day or winding down from the previous.

What she didn't expect was a knock on the door.

Eliza glanced around, expecting to see a servant appear announcing the knocker's presence but none appeared, everyone was either in the kitchen or outside watching the children. She sighed setting her sewing aside and standing, smoothing down her burgundy gown before walking towards the front of their home and opening the door.

When she recognized the visitor, Eliza was unsure she had ever felt an emotion quite like the emotion she was feeling now. Anger? Hurt? Disgust? All quite foreign to the woman but none quite describing what she really felt.

Before she realized what she was doing, her fist connected with Burr's face, causing him to stumble backwards and nearly into the cobblestone street.

"What. The. Hell. Do. You. Want?" She spat, towering over the other as he stood below on the manor's front steps, her face red with fury. "Come to see what you've sowed?? Hmm??"

Burr gulped softly, cowering before the fuming matriarch with his arms covering his face in case of another swing. "No!" He gasped, peeking up at her. "To...to..."

"Apologize?" She hissed. "An adorable notion! You tried to kill him! An act directly against God's commandments! I assume you came in rumor of my unwavering forgiveness but I tell you, dear sir, that it can indeed waver!"

"Not at all!" He shook his head, standing up a bit but keeping his shoulder's slouched in a way to show a more submissive side. "I did not come to try to take advantage of such a trait! I merely wished..."

"What? Spit it out." She narrowed her eyes.

"To merely put out my apologies." He sighed. "Whether or not they are accepted does not matter to me. I simply wish to put ease to my wretched soul and attempt to seek forgiveness from those I hurt."

"We are not who you should worry about."

"I know." He closed his eyes. "But I believe God has already decided my fate, I only wish to try to lessen the impact of my fall."

Eliza sighed and shook her head. "God never abandons His children. If you seek forgiveness, I recommend visiting Church for confession rather then groveling at the feet of your old enemy's home." 

He nodded weakly, meeting her gaze for the first time. "I appreciate the advice, Mrs. Hamilton. And I hope that when we meet again it is on a happier note?"

"That's up to the Lord to decide." She nodded, closing the door on him before turning to walk towards the stairway. She stopped once she reached her husband's side, allowing her eldest to leave and go about other business. 

Eliza crawled beside the sleeping man and curled close, burying her face into his warm neck. She threw one hand on his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, which soothed her racing heart and mind. She felt horrible for how she treated Burr but on the other hand...she knew what happened was meant to happen and that eased her worrying. It helped to know that Alexander would agree with how she handled it, perhaps he would have reacted even more so.

She sighed and simply closed her eyes, letting sleep ease over her and tug her deep into her dreams while the sounds of her husband mumbling in his sleep kept a smile on her lips.


	6. A Surprise Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander has nearly fully recovered from the duel and wants to do something nice for his wife, but he needed a little help.

A month passed.

Eliza woke to the sound of the birds chirping outside her open window. It was mid August now, soon enough they wouldn't be able to keep the windows open due to the chilling air. For now though, Eliza savored every moment they were open, she adored the fresh air.

Yawning softly, she rolled onto her back to rub gently at her face, eventually blinking her eyes open to peek about the bedroom. Naturally, her eyes drifted to the side of the bed opposite to her, where Alexander was sure to still be sleeping. Ever since the duel he had taken up sleeping much later then he had before, not that he had much choice he still was relatively bed bound, but he had found he enjoyed sleeping much more then he had in the past. 

Except this morning he wasn't there.

Eliza quickly sat up, looking around the room nervously. Had he tried to walk again without her help? Had he fallen? Where was he??

"Darling. Darling, I'm right here."

Eliza quickly looked in the direction of Alexander's voice and relaxed, seeing the man in his wheelchair near the window.

"Don't startle me like that!" She scolded, easing out of bed and throwing on a robe. "How'd you get out of bed on your own?" 

"You underestimate my upper arm strength my dear." He chuckled, wheeling over to meet her. "Besides, my chair was right beside the bed."

"Your stitches only just healed my love." Eliza sighed, kneeling to his height. "We can't have you re-open your wounds again."

"You worry too much." He smiled, cupping her cheek. "I'm more then okay now. Relax."

"You're right...I'm sorry." She kissed his palm before standing up straight again. "Motherly instincts...can't turn them off." She chuckled weakly, watching a maid bring in their breakfast. They had taken to eating in their bedroom since getting Alexander downstairs required half the staff and a good fifteen minutes.

"Mhmm. You need a break darling." Alex said, rolling over to their small table on the other side of the room. "I'm sure the kids and I can survive for a weekend if you should go upstate to see your sister."

"I don't know..." Eliza bit her lip, sitting at the table and placing a napkin in her lap. Alex had to smile at that, his ever polite and dainty wife. "I would worry all weekend..."

"Which is why I've already written to Angelica." Alexander beamed, sipping his coffee. "She'll be here by early afternoon and she'll bring you back late Sunday."

Eliza nearly choked on her biscuit, giving her husband a shocked look. 

"Our Angie helped me pack your bags." He took a bite of bread, swallowing before he spoke again. "Don't fret, your sister has alot planned for you both and you'll have a lovely time. You deserve it..."

She felt like tearing up, he was so thoughtful to her, so caring. "Alright...I'll go. But only if you promise to behave yourself! I don't want to come home and find you bleeding and dying again."

"I will be fine." Alex assured her, reaching across the table to squeeze Eliza's hand happily. "Trust me. Alex will be here to help take care of things, take care of Angie, keep her happy and all that."

Eliza nodded softly, smiling at him. "I trust you...thank you."

He smiled, wheeling over to cup her cheeks. "Don't thank me, I should be the one thanking you, over and over again."

She laughed, leaning forward to hug him as tightly as she could without hurting him.

"I love you..."

"I love you too..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for my absence! College and all that...then I got a new phone and lost all my fics!! Which included the orginal version of this chapter!!


	7. Weekends are for Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza is off for her weekend away from the city, but what are her family to do in her absence?

To say he would miss his wife was an understatement.

The entire family waved goodbye to their mother and wife as she got into her family’s carriage, waving out the window with tears in her eyes.

“I’ll be back on Sunday!” She blew kisses, Angelica doing the same behind her, chuckling softly at her younger sister.

“Bing appys back!” Philip yelled, giggling against his sister as she held him. Apples were his favorite treat and his Grandfather had a beautiful orchard full of the delicious fruit.

Alex chuckled at his youngest child, his eyes returning to the departing carriage until it was out of view. He sighed, chewing his bottom lip before shaking himself out of his yearning stupor.

“All right! Your mother is off for her fun weekend! What do you say we have a fun weekend of our own?” He grinned, turning in his chair to face the children.

“We could always go to the market!” Eliza smiled, the little girl nearest to her father. It was clear from the moment she was born that little Eliza was a daddy’s girl, and given the previous events of the year, she was even more so now.

“We could do that.” Alex nodded, inwardly groaning at the effort it would take to get him into the market but for his children he would do anything. “What else?” 

“We could have dinner outside.” Angelica spoke up, the eldest Hamilton child looking a little better then she had before the duel. “It is rather nice out still.”

“That is a darling idea my love.” Alexander smiled, reaching out to squeeze the usually quiet woman’s hand. Angelica was twenty years old now, yet with the damaging grief that came with Philip’s death she had reverted back to a more young girl mentality. With her father’s miraculous recovery however, she had made a little progress, smiling more and seeming more of herself before her breakdown.

“I very much enjoy the market idea.” Alexander junior nodded, the young man looking more and more like his father with each day. “I could use some more books and quills for school.”

“Then it’s settled.” His father nodded. “We’ll go into the market for a little while and when we return we’ll have dinner in the garden.”

“I’ll go tell Nanny!” James grinned, running off back into the Grange to find the old woman who ran their kitchen. Nanny of course wasn’t her real name, but it was what the children had nicknamed her, given the woman was like a grandmother to them. 

“I’ll go and make sure the carriage is readied.” John nodded, the other Hamilton boy scurrying off across the yard towards the barn. 

“Angie, Eliza, William, Philip?” Alex Jr. addressed his siblings. “Can you gather your own coats along with James and John’s? Make sure everyone is ready for the trip into town.” 

The four nodded and moved to enter back into the home, Philip babbling happily to himself as they went.

“And I will make sure you are ready.” The younger man turned to his father and chuckled.

“I am!” The older pouted, folding his arms.

“Coat? The proper treads for your chair?” The junior raised his eyebrow.

“You may look like me but dear lord are you your mother.” He laughed raising his arms in defeat before rolling back into the home to fetch both items required for a proper ride into town.

“She put me in charge of you for a reason!” Alex jr. chuckled, following his father closely behind.

Soon the Grange was full of sounds of a busying family, happy shouts from room to room as they gathered the needed items for the trip and by the time everyone piled into the carriage, Alexander’s chair tied to the back, no one was without a smile on their face, not even mournful Angie who for once was full of song and glee, her grief forgotten as a broken family finally healed. The power of hope, happiness, and togetherness more powerful then any grief in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for my long hiatus, my muse was lost but with seeing Hamilton hopefully this year, I hope to renew my muse and solider on!


End file.
